


The Dust in Integrity's Wake

by Silverskye13



Series: The Stairs to the Core (Grillster Stories) [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: I don't even remember the tags I had on this thing, Major Character Injury, Monster Dust (Undertale), Other, Platonic Life Partners, Suspense, Violence, here we go again, i'm a mess basically, integrity is either the purple or the blue soul, sorry for the reupload, the ballerina girl anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverskye13/pseuds/Silverskye13
Summary: A human has fallen into the Underground. It had been the third since Asgore declared his war on humans, and... this seems to be the first human who decided to war back. The dust count is rising, and so is the fear of what havoc the child with wreak next.Grillby... doesn't want to get involved. He really just wants to hide in his bar and wait for all of this to be over.But the human has disappeared somewhere in Hotlands, dangerously close to where Gaster works, and Grillby hasn't heard from his friend in hours. Now he's... seriously wondering if he should try to make it to the labs, to make sure his friend doesn't become another number of the fallen the the murder-child's wake.





	1. The Anxiety of Cell Phones

There was a human in the Underground.

The news had gone out faster than lighting, and their world slammed to a halt when they heard it.

There was a human. There was a human in the Underground.

It had been a while, Grillby remembered, since the last one fell. This was the second? The third, since Asgore had declared his war, and it seemed with this one the humans were finally warring back. _This one was dangerous_.

The guard had spread the news as quickly as they could manage, as soon as the first bits of dust started appearing in the forests outside of Snowdin. Grillby was grateful for their quick action, and for how fast word spread in such a claustrophobic world. Grillby had closed his bar in an instant, locking himself and his patrons inside. And then he’d stood by the door, waiting, watching, flame pitched low and cool while the rest of the monsters huddled close by the bar counter. They probably didn’t realize just how nervous he was. He didn’t talk enough to let them know, and few of them could tell the difference between a normal flicker and a shiver of fearful sparks.

Grillby… didn’t want to confront a human. He didn’t even want to _see_ one. Grillby had always held a small hatred for humans, a justified fear that echoed back from his time in the first war. The King and Queen’s adopted child had made him nervous enough when they fell. And like a bad omen they had only spread despair when they left and took the King’s son with them. Ever since then, whenever a child fell the elemental felt a new chill down his spine, a dread in his soul. It had been bearable because the children had never really been _dangerous_. He could safely ignore them from within the confines of his bar, watching silently as they made their way to the King.

This destructive child threw a whole new ache through his soul, a fearful pain, a shiver. They were killing monsters. Some stirring thought in his soul told Grillby he should… do something about this. He was an elemental after all, and was only really harmed by ice or water magic. And from the news he’d been hearing, this child wasn’t a mage. He could confront them fairly safely, knowing that he could harm them and they couldn’t hurt him back.

Then his soul squirmed, and he brushed the thought away. Grillby had given up any ties he could have to the King and his guard _years_ ago. He’d sworn he’d never do the dirty work for his crown again. He had enough nightmares. He didn’t need to add child murder to them - even if the child was a killer in their own right. This was a problem for the guard to handle. This wasn’t his business anymore.

Grillby had sighed a breath of relief and smoke when the guard came knocking on his door, giving the all-clear and announcing that the child had passed on into Waterfall. They’d killed a few of the guard on the Snowdin outposts when they’d gone. Apparently they were a force to be reckoned with. None of the guards remaining asked Grillby for help, and this was a relief as well. Not that any of them would really know who he was or who he had been. There were very few monsters old enough to remember the war or who fought in it. And the only monster who Grillby might actually listen to for that wouldn’t ask in a million years.

Grillby’s phone started ringing a bright, electronic tune and the elemental crackled an ironic chuckle.

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear._

“Everything going okay over there, Gaster?” Grillby asked quietly into the phone, his voice a subtle crackle of sparks.

“Yeah fine, just fine!” came the nervous, and slightly static-filled answer - the labs were never kind to cell phone signals, “We’ve all locked ourselves in one of the offices. The radio just said Snowdin got the all-clear. I decided to check in.”

Grillby flickered an appreciative smile, “They passed through Snowdin without incident, it sounds like. Heard we lost a few guards though. And maybe a few of the forest-dwelling monsters as well.”

There was a sharp, muffled sound over the line - probably Gaster cursing.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said a bit more clearly after a pause, “Have they said anything about Waterfall?”

“Just that the child has entered,” Grillby hummed, “Gerson’s got his shop though, so he should be fine at least.”

“Right, that’s good...” Gaster said almost absentmindedly, “... just as long as he actually _stays in the shop_.”

There was a pause, and a shuffle as Gaster waved some thought away - his habit for moving his hands as he talked always made phone conversations interesting, “ _Anyway_ , I was just checking in! Glad everything’s alright on your end! I’ll call you when they give Hotlands the all-clear too, alright?”

“Sure thing,” Grillby sighed, trying not to let his worry lilt too far into his voice, “Stay safe Gaster. Don’t do anything rash.”

“Pfff what? Me? _Rash?”_ Gaster laughed with an exaggerated flare, and Grillby couldn’t help but smile at it, “Don’t worry firefly, I’ve got interns to take care of. I’m not going anywhere.”

Then to someone behind him, “Right guys? You’ll keep me in line?”

There were mixed remarks back that sounded mostly like muffled static through the phone, but all of their tones were joking and pleasant.

“There you go, reassured?” Gaster said, a grin in his voice.

“Plenty,” Grillby, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Over and out,” came the chipper reply before the line cut out.

Grillby pocketed his cell phone and, with a bracing sigh, went about the regular business of taking care of his bar now that the threat and worry were both out of the way. He kept the radio playing through the day, listening patiently for news as it cycled it’s way through the Underground. A few of his patrons left because of it, preferring to stay willfully ignorant of the dismal statistics that poured through the crackling speakers. It was… disheartening… hearing about the losses in Waterfall. Grillby couldn’t blame people for not wanting to hear about it. Just listening to the news made his stomach writhe with nerves. But eventually the all-clear was sounded for Waterfall as well, and the vigil began for Hotlands.

It began and… as Grillby watched the clock and paced and pined… it never ended. And he was getting outwardly nervous now, and his patrons were becoming nervous because of it. How long had it been for the all-clear to sound in Waterfall? Two hours? It was getting close to that for Hotlands now… surely the child was nearly gone?

Grillby glanced at the clock, time slowing in between the laps he walked around the bar.

I’m sorry, were you waiting on another drink sir? Just a moment. Ah, yes ma’am I’ll have your order out in a few moments, my apologies I’m a bit scattered at the moment. Oh I’m just… waiting on a phone call. Oh _jeez_ something’s burning! Back into the kitchen to try and salvage an order of fries that were looking a bit too much like charcoal to be of any good. How much time had passed?

By the time Grillby was closing up the bar that afternoon, he still hadn’t received his call, the radio _still_ hadn’t announced the all-clear, and the reports coming in from Hotlands were scattered at best. No one had seen the child in over an hour. There were guards posted on every road to the Capital and they had seen nothing. The guards in Waterfall assured everyone that the child hadn’t backtracked. They were starting to organize a few groups of the guards together to assess the damage in Hotlands and try to find the child.

One reporter mentioned the Hotland labs, and how labyrinthine they could be. Monsters got lost inside if they didn’t know where they were going. How would they root out a dangerous human if they were lurking around in the labs? What would happen to the Core and the power in the Underground if the child hurt or - heaven’s forbid - _killed_ any of the Core operators - !

Grillby had turned off the radio then, his whole body feeling shaky, a hand clutching at the chest of his shirt as if that could ease the panicked tightness of his soul just beneath. He felt like it was getting hard to breathe. His head was spinning.

Gaster. That _thing_ might be trapped with _Gaster_. Fragile, breakable, skeleton Gaster. Hadn’t fought anything in years, Gaster. Terrified of powerful humans, Gaster. Just trying to protect the students working with him, _Gaster_. Laughing, smiling, absolutely genius, wonderful, very nearly the only thing Grillby was living for, Gaster.

Should he call? Should he text? What if Gaster had his cell phone volume on and the child heard it? Was it worth that kind of risk just to ease his own anxiety? What if he was hurt? What if that child had _found them?_ What if he was _gone?_

What if? What _if? What if? What if!?_

Gah! Grillby thought he might go insane just thinking about it. With a full-body sigh he slumped to the floor in his kitchen, head bowed, forehead resting against the cell phone clutched in his hands. _Please_ let Gaster be okay. _Please_ don’t let this end in disaster. _Please_ please please!

Grillby hit send on a text message and held his breath.

> _You okay?_

He perched there on his floor, huddled as small as he could be, his phone so close to his face that the blaring screen nearly took up the entirety of his vision. His gaze flicked up to the time in the corner.

One minute passed.

He glanced back at his messages.

Nothing.

Glanced up at the time.

Two minutes passed.

Glanced back at his messages.

Nothing.

Grillby let out a pensive sigh and leaned his head back against the cabinets behind him, focusing on his breathing, counting backwards from some obscure number that he couldn’t rightly place in his mind. His fingers twitched and typed nervous gibberish that he didn’t even glance at, just for the sake of the movement and the outlet of his nerves. When he was done counting he deleted the gibberish, taking painstaking care not to look at the time.

He glanced back at his messages.

Nothing.

No text.

No call.

 _Nothing_.

It had been ten minutes.

Should he text again? Should he have even sent the first message? Maybe he should find something to do… something to take his mind off of everything. Maybe he should give the bonehead some more time to actually check his phone. Maybe… Maybe he should… W… What if he…?

What if he… checked on Gaster…?

Grillby shook his head. No that was insane. The guards had shut down the roads for one thing. It was for everyone’s safety that they stay indoors and just wait for the threat to pass. Besides, he… probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. He’d just make things worse -- or -- or more confusing. He was a _civilian_. What could he hope to do that the guard didn’t already have covered? He should just… stay home and wait and…

… and Grillby was… almost impossible to harm. The child didn’t have magic, and they were out of Waterfall. That would be the only place Grillby would be at a disadvantage. He didn’t even have to _fight_ the child. He could just… walk right past them. Or… or even tire them out, so they couldn’t hurt anyone anymore! Maybe he could even get to Gaster before the child did.

Grillby glanced down at his phone again - still nothing.

“This is a horrible idea,” he voiced aloud, his breath a sigh of smoke, “I shouldn’t do this.”

Grillby pulled himself to his feet and pocketed his phone. He started walking through the bar, silently bargaining to himself.

_If Gaster hasn’t texted back before I’ve locked up the bar, I’m going._

It took him a few minutes to go through his regular motions of wiping down the tables and cleaning glasses and the like. A few _less_ minutes than normal - he’d be lying if he said that in his worry he didn’t _rush_. Gaster still hadn’t sent him a message back and, now, Grillby’s mind was made up.

He texted and prayed he wasn’t making things worse.

_> If you get this, tell me what part of the lab you’re in. I’m coming to get you._

Then he was off, marching at a stiff pace across town, doing his best not to look too urgent and hectic as he went. The thought crossed his mind briefly that he should grab his raincoat from his house before he left - he’d be traveling through Waterfall, after all. In the end though, he was in too much of a hurry to stop. In too much of a hurry to even bother with walking the distance.

Grillby stormed straight for the ferry. The riverperson perched dutifully on the makeshift Snowdin dock, their little boat tethered in place - probably an order from the guard. If they were keeping the roads closed to try and minimize casualties, they’d want to keep anyone from using the river to slip past as well. They rose to their feet when they saw Grillby, some glint in their eye reflecting back from the depths of their hood. Grillby’s stomach gave an anxious flip when he approached. _The river_. He was going to be on _the river_ if he did this. But… he _needed_ to get to Hotlands. He… oh _heavens_ this was going to be nervewracking.

Grillby checked his phone one more time.

Still no answer.

“I uh… don’t suppose I could ask for a ride?” Grillby asked as he pocketed his phone again.

The riverperson chirped their strange little laugh, “ _Tra la la!_ We’re supposed to stay put.”

“I realize,” Grillby said nervously, “But… this is an emergency. Please. I _need_ to get to Hotlands.”

The riverperson wrapped him up in their mysterious, sideways glare, as if they were measuring up what he’d said to some hidden knowledge they had. They were always so cryptic… one more reason for Grillby to be nervous around them. But after a pause, they stepped back and untethered their little craft. They glided into place at the helm, an air of casual pleasantry radiating off of them.

“To Hotlands we go! _Tra la la…!”_

“Thank you,” Grillby breathed, both relieved and fearful all at once. He paused just at the water’s edge, eyeing the gap between the boat and the safety of the riverbank. The riverperson offered their hand to help Grillby aboard, and the elemental shakily stepped onto the boat for the first time. He stood in the very center of the narrow craft, as far away from the water as he could possibly be. The riverperson chuckled their chiming laugh again, obviously finding his nervousness funny.

Grillby was a bit too sick with worry to be mad at it. He probably _did_ look ridiculous huddled in the center of the little boat.

He didn’t know what was worse, the ride itself or the dread that came with it. The boat was moving altogether too fast and too slow. He just wanted it to be over the minute the trip started. He wanted to close his eyes and wait for it to be over - but at the same time he was terrified if they hit some bump or took a sharp turn he wouldn’t be able to see it before they hit it and he was thrown into the water. Which was absurd, he told himself. He’d lived in the Underground for _how many years_ and never _once_ had he heard of _anyone_ falling off the riverperson’s ferry! Even now the thing glided gently yet quickly through the water, never once so much as hitting a snag that could rock it. And all the while the riverperson laughed that chiming laugh.

“ _Tra la la!_ This little trip is the least of your worries, _tra la la!”_

Oh that was just _great_. Just what Grillby needed! Ominous. Premonitions.

At last the craft slowed to a stop in Hotlands, and Grillby disembarked, his whole body shaking. He managed to compose himself enough to rifle through his pocket for some spare gold as a tip, only for the riverperson to hold up a hand and stop him, signalling it wasn’t necessary. He murmured another ‘thank you’ to the riverperson before turning to leave, and as he did so they whispered after him.

“The left one is death.”

Before Grillby could ask them to elaborate they were gone, their craft speeding back the direction they’d come. Grillby shook his head, stowing the warning away for now. That was something to bother with later. _Now_ he needed to be getting to the labs. Grillby fished his cell phone out of his pocket again, fingers jerking to punch in another text message. He was startled to see he had a missed call and several texts. He read through them, his stomach tying itself up in knots with worry and growing panic.

_> Hey! Sorry for not answering. Had a tense moment there ha-ha. But seriously, stay home okay? It’s not safe._

_> Grillby I’m serious, this thing has been wandering around the building for like two hours okay? You can’t come here._

_> Grillby answer me_

_> Firefly come on_

_> If you show up here I swear to god_

_> We already contacted the guard okay? We’ll be fine just sit tight wherever you are._

_> Grillby I’m serious_

_> Listen the guard is coming down the hall now okay? We’re fine stay home_

There was a time skip between messages, and then finally:

_> We’re in the bottom floor of the labs down the hall from the entrance to the Core complex, office 6, passcode for the elevator is 1304._

_> It killed the guard_

Grillby started running. He barely managed to punch in a message in reply as he went.

_> Stay put, I’m on my way_

_> You better not be dead before I get there bonehead_


	2. Suspense! The Musical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which walking through the labs is infuriatingly terrifying
> 
> Also there's a murder child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the re-upload.
> 
> Basically in my panic to take down the last chapter, I deleted the entire thing like a dumbass.  
> Anyway, it will be continued eventually. I'm just going to probably tear apart chapter 3 for a week or two before anything happens with this thing.
> 
> Sorry for the confusion/inconvenience!

Grillby ran through Hotlands, trying to ignore how absolutely _barren_ the landscape felt when it was so devoid of life. There were no monsters in sight. No guards. No locals. _Nothing_. _Heavens alive_ the world felt so _empty_ here. Almost as if Grillby were the very last monster left in the Underground - a thought he was too nerve-stricken to entertain for long. The human had swept through like a whirlwind, destroying _everything_. Wider spread than a cave in, further encompassing than an earthquake or a flood. They were a some ill-intentioned disaster that left nothing but dust in their wake, and they refused to stop.

The only sounds that echoed back to Grillby as he ran were the sounds of his own footsteps as they crunched against the cracked earth, and the steam vents still operating in the distance. The air was thick with the haze of smoke and heat that constantly pervaded this place, but Grillby could tell from the smell in the air and the bite it put in his throat that the normal haze was thickened by the stirring of dust. It colored his flame in bitter reds and purples, shifted like sand beneath his feet, cramped his stomach with nausea and disgust. There was a _lot_ of dust. He tried not to look at it. Tried not to _think_ about it.

Hotlands didn’t have many places to hide. How many monsters had the human caught out in the open? How many had it killed mercilessly? How many would it keep killing if it wasn’t stopped?

Grillby slowed to a halt in front of the lab doors, gazing up at the imposing structure as he reached it. The doors had been pried open, either by the human or the guard that had come after them. Inside the building was dark. The lights had been turned out - probably in an effort to better hide the workers inside. The disheveled doorway yawned open at him like a crooked mouth, the darkness behind it imposing and heavy.

Grillby sighed out a bracing breath full of smoke and sparks, and then stepped inside.

 _Bottom floor of the labs, Office 6_.

Right, he needed to get downstairs.

Grillby meandered down the long entry hall. There was a reception desk to his left, some escalators leading upstairs where extra storage was kept. He’d been here a million times, visiting Gaster or taking tours, letting his friend showcase his latest experiment, or even just picking the skeleton up before they went somewhere else. It should be familiar to him. Almost like a second home.

But here in the dark, he felt exposed and alien. Like he didn’t belong here, like the very air itself was foreign and uninviting. Familiar shapes warped and twisted in the darkness, shapeshifting into insidious forms fueled by the hungry nature of Grillby’s nervousness and hardly-controlled panic. He felt _watched_ , like any minute some hands would reach for him out of the encompassing gloom and snuff him out like a candle - which was impossible _he knew_ but… it didn’t make the feeling any less… eerie. Or foreboding. Especially with the riverperson’s warning in mind.

 _The left one is death_.

What was that even supposed to mean? Grillby shook the thought away. He couldn’t worry about that right now. Right _now_ he needed to focus on getting to Gaster before the human did. He made his way to the elevator, punching in the code Gaster had sent him and then waited for the elevator to descend. Uncharacteristically bright and calming music played over the speakers, and the irony almost forced a smile into Grillby’s flame. The descent was long and short, both long enough for Grillby to grow impatient and short enough that he was nervous to leave. He kept glancing at the floor numbers as they ticked past, constantly double-checked to make sure he’d punched in the right floor number. He would’ve paced if he’d had time enough.

The elevator stopped its descent and with a loud _ding!_ the doors opened, and Grillby flinched back away when they did. If the human was nearby, they _surely_ heard that. The elemental took a second to peer out the doorway, checking both directions down the hall. Here the darkness seemed even _darker_ , all-encompassing and consuming. There were no windows, only the occasional emergency light dispersed way too far apart down the narrow halls to be of any help. They glowed harsh and dim in fluorescent greens, barely illuminating a few feet in either direction before the hall vanished into obscurity and murk. The gap of darkness in between the lights was ominous and gaping, like for a few seconds the world stopped existing in those places. It would be… really hard to see something hiding in there… if it decided to.

Grillby shuddered.

Right. Gaster. Right now he _had_ to find Gaster. Grillby let out another sigh and stepped into the darkness of the hall, his own light dimming so he didn’t stick out so much - or at least, he _hoped_ he didn’t. Being made of fire tended to ensure he was _always_ conspicuous. He strode down the darkened hall, walking cautiously, trying to keep his steps quiet so he could listen down the walls ahead. It was… damnably quiet down here. There was little sound past the hum of electricity and the occasional machine that was still running behind some of the closed doors. The air was so lifeless it seemed almost stagnant, and it was saturated with the smell of sterilizing products and settling chemicals.

There were no voices.

No pens scrabbling against paper as some intern or another took notes on the data some machine spit out. No music played as someone worked. No laughter at some science joke that always went careening past Grillby’s knowledge. No string of curses as some minor thing went wrong and Gaster scrambled to correct it. No enthusiastic greeting or bunsen-burner jokes as Grillby passed by.

Nothing.

Just the eerie hum of machinery and Grillby’s footsteps and the crackling of his flame.

Once or twice he caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral and froze mid-step, only to sigh in annoyance when he realized it was just the blinking lights of some machine still running or - even _more_ annoying - the reflection of his own fire against glass or metal. It was still always a force of will to keep moving after though, to stomp down the eerie insistence that the phantom movements he kept seeing were actually something lurking there. It was a fight convincing himself to keep moving, _reminding_ himself that he couldn’t hide standing still, that he had to keep going forward.

He felt like a tightly wound spring. His soul was hammering a frantic psuedo-heartbeat in his chest, his whole core was shuddering and shivering with nervousness. He felt _sick_. He felt scared and panicky and with every accidental startle he felt _worse_. Like sooner or later his soul would just shatter from the fright itself. He felt overbearingly like he was being followed, like any minute he’d spin around and see some human’s gaunt and grinning face, eyes flashing, inches behind where he stood. There was a thickening paranoia that every time he stepped it wasn’t his step’s echoes he heard but those of some _thing_ lurking behind him. Watching. _Following_. Waiting.

 _He needed to find Gaster_.

He shouldn’t be scared. Really. This was all completely irrational. There was no way this human could harm him unless somehow they had water or ice, or some kind of magic made up of those two things - which they more than likely _didn’t_ have. But humans were strange, insidiously inventive creatures. If there was a way to do something, _they would find it_. The barrier was the most damning example of that.

There was a break in the sound Grillby had grown used to and he froze. It wasn’t in anything before or behind him. It was a sound _he’d made_ , he just hadn’t expected to make it. He’d shuffled into something gritty and rough, causing a shift in tone between the regular beat of his footsteps down the hall. Turning it away from the hollow tap and into a crunching, sand-like shift. A smell wafted up to him when the stuff moved beneath his feet, the bite in it all too familiar.

Dust. He’d stepped in someone’s dust.

Grillby closed his eyes - not that it changed much, he could hardly see anything past his own ring of fire, and even that was too dim to see clearly around his feet. His soul felt tight, and he had to gulp down his rising panic as it leaped into his throat.

_Who’s dust was it?_

Gaster wouldn’t have left the room, right? What about the kids - sorry _interns_ \- with him? They wouldn’t either right? That was ridiculous. They would stay somewhere safe. Un… unless… unless where they were hiding hadn’t been safe anymore. Unless the human had -- !

Grillby shook his head, scattering the frantic ‘what-if’ questions before they could force him to panic. He knelt down, letting his light cast about the dust at his feet. The clothes there were thoroughly covered in the stuff, and Grillby choked on a gag as he shuffled through it. It had been _years_ since he’d handled anyone’s dust. He wasn’t nearly as cold to it as he had once been. He remembered when he’d once walked through fields of it unflinching, storming forward to ranks of humans much more terrifying than any single human child could be now.

Funny how the years had changed him.

It took a bit of fumbling in his own dimmed light, but Grillby managed to discern that it was a guard uniform - one of the civilian type, lacking armor. Just some fancy fabric inlaid with the Delta Rune. There had been some guards like them in Snowdin as well, mostly functioning to keep people indoors and evacuate parts of the forest. They weren’t there to fight, only to lead people to safety.

Apparently the human got to them first.

Was it sad that Grillby felt… relieved? Relieved that he wasn’t picking up a lab coat off the ground, covered in dust? Probably. This monster probably had friends and family that would miss them for years, and all Grillby could feel was a distant sort of somber sympathy for them. A feeling muted and dulled against the background static of nervous anxiety still humming in his chest.

Grillby looked up and cast his light a little brighter, illuminating the hallway a bit clearer further ahead. The uniform in his hands wasn’t the only one in the hall… There were two others, obscured by the heavy grey of settled dust. It looked very much like the uniforms had been kicked aside in the human’s hurry. The dust was scattered, cast about the hall as if it were garbage. There’d be no telling which monster from which when it was collected, no way to offer the families they belonged to any real solace. That thought alone put a bitter pang in Grillby’s chest.

Humans always had a habit for being stupidly cruel.

As gingerly as he could Grillby stood and stepped past what was left of the poor monsters, wincing when once or twice the normal sound of his footsteps was obscured as he stepped in a pocket of dust he’d been trying to avoid. The crunching, rough sound of it made him want to vomit.

He walked a little faster down the hall now. Reading signs posted in the different doorways, trying to discern how much farther he had to go. They were all places Grillby was familiar with - he’d followed Gaster into every one of these rooms at some point. Like with the lobby though, the pervading darkness warped and obscured these places. Made them alien. Surreal and nightmarish and labyrinthine. He had to keep reminding himself he’d been here before. That there were no insidious humans lurking behind some of the open doorways. That the closed door he passed wouldn’t suddenly explode open to let out some ravenous creature. That the itching, crawling feeling driving through his core was from his own irrational nervousness and not anything real and biting.

A _shout_ rang out down the hall and Grillby gave such a start he almost fell over.

And then came a racket, like someone trying to kick and claw their way through a door. More shouting joined it, all in a language Grillby couldn’t _hope_ to understand, no matter how familiar it sounded. It sent a shiver through his soul, agitated the tightness in his chest.

The elemental sprang forward towards the noise, against his screaming senses that told him to run the opposite way. The sound of whatever struggle was happening jerked and flinched it’s way to him, breaking apart and warping as it echoed through the halls but only ever got louder the further he went. He rounded one corner, then a second, and at the third he stopped short.

There it - there _she_ \- was, the human. A girl, thin and lanky and looking more fragile than glass, even as she struggled against the door she was trying to get through. Heavens above, and she really was just a _child_. She was probably tall for her age, but there was a youngness in her face that was telling. She was dressed in vibrant pink, a frilly, flaring skirt decorating her waist like lace. But any illusion of pity Grillby could try to feel for her was shattered by the dust that adorned her, clinging like frost to her arms and legs, coating her shoes, sprinkled across her dress. She was screaming something, angry and shrill and borderline frantic. From the sounds of it, she may have even been repeating the same thing over and over. Grillby gave an anxious, confused flicker. What in the _world_ was so important behind that do-

Grillby glanced up at the little sign posted above it - _Office 6_.

Oh. _No._

“H-hey! Stop!” Grillby shouted, and the girl snapped her attention to him in a second, “That’s it, over he-”

Grillby blinked and she was suddenly right in front of him, clearing the distance between them in a number of deceptively long, lunging strides. She spun gracefully, almost dance-like, slamming a hard kick into his chest and sending him staggering backwards. There was so much intent behind the attack that it left him breathless, and he clutched at where she’d hit him, for a few seconds wondering if she’d _actually managed_ to take a few of his hp away. Then faster than he could think she was hitting him a second time, a third, so intent-filled and heavy he staggered back in the face of it, choking on the dust that dislodged from her clothes as she moved. No wonder she’d killed so many monsters. Grillby could hardly see her she moved so fast, and with deceptive assurance and will.

At some point amongst the onslaught she paused, catching her breath just long enough for Grillby to regain his balance. When she threw forward again, he blocked the hit and with a shove sent her sprawling. For a few seconds she was too stunned to do much more than look up at him from where she’d crumpled onto the floor, eyes wide and fearful, all her frantic fury snapped away. He felt the pull in his soul as she checked his stats and realized he hadn’t lost a single hp through the entire thing. Then she was scrambling up and running, a streak of greyed away pinks that disappeared around the corner. With a grunt Grillby followed, just reaching the bend in the hall in time to watch her round a second corner and disappear. He stood there waiting and listening as her steps receded in the distance. He waited even longer after, wondering if she might come back. She didn’t.

For now, she was gone.

Grillby heaved out a sigh of relief. _Thank heavens_ she was just a normal _human_. If that girl had been a mage, Grillby would have probably been dead before he even saw her coming, and she was still _just a child_.

And Grillby was shaking. He realized that now. The surprise and fear of the seconds of a fight had him almost shivering, and he was starting to feel sick again. That had been _terrifying_. And he’d come out unscathed! No wonder she was killing guards left and right! No wonder she was making a wasteland of the Underground! What… what the hell was _wrong_ with her?!

If Grillby were any other monster he’d have been dead. If he were anything besides what he was he’d be dust on the ground right now. Did any other monsters even stand _a chance_ against something like that? He… he honestly doubted it. Right now he seriously doubted _anything_ could kill her, even _Asgore himself._

Grillby shook his head. But… but he wasn’t supposed to be worrying about that right now. Gaster. He should be worrying about Gaster.

Grillby cast one last pensive look down the hall before turning and walking back the way he’d come. Back to the office Gaster had said he and his interns would be in. The girl had done a good job of messing up the door handle. It looked like she’d almost succeeded in breaking it. But otherwise the door was intact.

Funny how much stronger something as trivial as this could be - especially when compared to the frailty of monsters.

Grillby tapped out a disjointed knock, the same one Gaster used to knock on his front door every morning when the skeleton walked with him to work. There was immediately a scramble from behind the door, the sound of moving furniture, and then a pause as a few hushed voices talked. The door cracked open, held very stubbornly with blue magic as Gaster checked outside, and then it was flung open when he saw Grillby. The elemental found himself wrapped up in his friend’s embrace. Grillby hugged him back, feeling relieved for the first time all day.

“Thank _god!”_ Gaster gasped with a strained laugh, “I thought we were dead.”

“Glad I made it in time,” Grillby hummed with a crackling sigh, “Is everyone okay?”

“Fine! Fine _now_ anyway,” Gaster said quickly, taking a step back to hold his friend at arm’s length and look him over, “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Shaken up a bit,” Grillby admitted with a tense chuckle, “I took the ferry here.”

“ _Seriously?_ ” came a joking laugh from behind them as one of Gaster’s interns stepped through the doorway, cautiously followed by two others. They were young monsters, practically children it seemed to Grillby - though they were old enough to have been through the university, so he supposed they really weren’t all _that_ young. All of them wore white lab coats, an interesting contrast to Gaster’s black one. The monster who’d been speaking was one Grillby hadn’t met before, a cat-like monster, all smiles and disheveled fur.

“So you’re scared of the ferry but _not_ a murder child?”

Grillby shrugged in reply. It would probably be more reassuring for the young monsters if they thought he wasn’t afraid - though if they’d seen how bad he was shaking a few minutes ago, he was sure they’d be less than impressed. Thankfully, Gaster saved him before he could frame himself.

“Grillby, this is Rice, the new intern,” Gaster motioned in the cat monster’s direction, “And you’ve met Seda and Micael.”

The two monsters behind Gaster waved nervously to Grillby, and the elemental managed a pleasant flicker back, even in spite of the situation. He was glad they were safe.

“Is there anyone else around here?” Grillby asked, and Gaster shook his head.

“Nah, everyone else that was in today lived in the Capital, so they went home when the lockdown got announced,” Gaster sighed, “These guys live in Waterfall and Snowdin. I doubt they’d have made it past the human to get home.”

Grillby nodded, “Right. Well... I can escort you all to the ferry at least.”

“Uhm, I dunno about you,” Rice piped up, running a hand nervously across their head as they sputtered a laugh, “But I’m not going _anywhere_ while the hell-child is running around.”

“It’ll be fine,” Grillby said as soothingly as he could manage, “If they show up again I’ll just keep them distracted.”

“ _Seriously?”_ Rice winced another one of their nervous laughs, “Look, that thing killed the _guard_. It’ll probably one-shot you, dude.”

“Rice is right,” that was Seda speaking up, wringing her hands nervously, “Shouldn’t we wait until it wanders out of the labs? Or until one of the armored guards gets here?”

Grillby flickered a tense grin in Gaster’s direction, which the skeleton returned humorously.

“Aw, you have a fan club,” Gaster said with a chuckle, “Isn’t that sweet?”

Grillby shook his head, smiling. He took a second to peer down the hallway where the human had disappeared to, and then looked back to the huddled scientists.

“Well, you can stay here if you want,” he said with a tense sigh, bracing himself for the backlash he knew he would get for what he said next, “But… I… I think I’m going after it. So I’d prefer to have you guys out of the way before I do.”

“You’re _what?!”_ Gaster shouted - his voice was already a mix of incredulous and outraged, and Grillby winced at it, “No, no _no_ you are _not_ going after that thing!”

“Gaster, _shhh_ ,” Grillby hushed, waving his hands to try and coax him into lowering his voice before continuing softly, “Listen, that thing is killing guards left and right. When it hit me earlier, I felt it’s intent all the way down to my _soul_. Even if the armored guards go after it, they’re going to have a heck of a time trying to _catch_ it, let alone kill it. But if I can tire it out just a little -”

“No,” Gaster cut him off both with his voice and with a jerking sign, “Grillby, you _know_ humans. Just because she didn’t kill you _this time_ doesn’t mean she won’t figure out how - !”

“I _know_ Gaster, but what else can I do?” Grillby whined back, “I can’t just stand around here waiting for other monsters to die when I can _do something about this_.”

Gaster growled out an exasperated breath. He made the motion like he was going to speak, angry huff and all, but instead just signed - quickly and frantically with hands that were starting to shake from his overwhelmed emotions.

 _We talked about this last time a human fell, firefly! You’re not doing this. You don’t_ need _to help with this. You’re a bartender now not a goddamn soldier!_

Grillby flickered a fretful frown back, signing a bit more falteringly than Gaster did: _Gaster, monsters are going to die if I don’t help._

 _And_ you _will_ die if you do! You know humans they’ll find a way!

Grillby sighed out a sharp breath of smoke, “Gaster if you thought you could help out with something like this, you’d expect me to tell you to go. You’d expect me to _help you_ go.”

This brought Gaster’s signing to a brief halt, though the skeleton himself stayed moving. He shifted his weight around on his feet, ran his hands across his skull, crossed and uncrossed his arms. Grillby wanted to comfort him somehow, to tell him everything was going to be fine. He wanted to believe everything would be fine. But honestly… he didn’t even know himself.

Behind him, Grillby heard Rice whisper fairly conspicuously to the others, “So... is the Doc’s boyfriend some kind of badass or something?”

Gaster flashed Rice a withering glare that could turn a monster to dust, “ _No_ he’s not.”

Rice piped a nervous laugh, “Not a badass or not your boyfriend?”

Gaster ignored them, instead catching Grillby up in a stern frown, “Alright hero, what’s your plan then?”

Grillby flickered a nervous spark. Uh… he hadn’t really… thought that far.

“I was going to try and find it and… lead it out of Hotlands I guess,” Grillby offered lamely, “There’s several guards stationed on the road to the Capital to keep it from getting to the rest of the civilians there. They should be able to capture it… or at least funnel it to Asgore.”

“Right, and how do you plan on finding it?” Gaster asked, waving his arms in no direction in particular, “Even the guards can’t figure out where it keeps going. We didn’t even know it was down the hall until I opened the door.”

“Remind me later I owe you for those chisps,” Micael whispered, “... _and_ for the life endangerment... thing.”

Grillby scowled in whites and blues, “You risked your life for a _bag of chisps_ and you’re _worried about_ me dealing with the human?”

Gaster raised the bony ridge above one of his eyes and crossed his arms matter-of-factly, “I run faster than you.”

“… good point.”

“What about the cameras?”

Both Grillby and Gaster turned to Seda, who now looked a thousand times more nervous with their attention focused on her. She gulped anxiously and continued.

“We uh… just got them up a few days ago,” she said more to Grillby than Gaster, “They’re around the building, and spread out in Hotlands. Th… there’s a lot of blind spots though, and they can be kinda buggy. It might take a few minutes to find the human in them.”

Seda paused and then offered a bit more confidently, “And we uh… we could call you and tell you where it is when we see it on the cameras. The camera room doesn’t get very good reception though...”

Grillby looked back at Gaster, “How far away is the camera room?”

“It’s not on this level,” Gaster pointed up to the ceiling, “We’ll have to hit the elevators first. And it’ll take a few minutes to get all the equipment back online.”

Grillby nodded slowly, “Lead the way then.”

He flickered a sharp look in the interns’ direction, “Line up behind Gaster, stick close to the wall, and if I tell you to do something, do it. Now let’s go, _quickly_ if you can.”

Grillby was relieved when they did as they were told. Gaster led them off down the hallway, Grillby taking up the back of the line and constantly glancing back the direction they’d come. He didn’t see the human, even if he _felt like_ they should be there. Even if his soul still shuddered a bit from the hits he’d taken. He was relieved to have other monsters with him though. Relieved he’d found them all _safe_. Glad to be in the presence of something alive and a little less dismal.

Of course, for as mortified as Grillby had been shuffling past the guards’ remains, the interns were doubly so. Gaster picked past them carefully, relatively cold - though respectful enough to avoid touching any of the dust. Gaster had worked with monsters and dust since before Grillby met him in the war. He had been unfazed by things like this for years. The _interns_ though. Seda started crying the minute she saw it, and crying harder when she had to walk past. Rice looked like they might be sick. Micael almost was. Coaxing them across took more time and effort than Grillby wanted to use, and all the noise they made only increased his paranoia.

He was looking over his shoulder so much now he thought he might get whiplash.

At length they made it to the elevators and Gaster punched in the code they needed to get to the next floor up. The walk here was a little quicker - the interns seemed a little more assured here, especially knowing they’d left the human behind on the floor below.

Grillby didn’t have the heart to tell them that if it had wandered onto the bottom floor somehow, no fancy elevator code would keep them from getting to this floor as well. Gaster seemed to figure this out too - he stayed grim and watchful through the remainder of their walk.

The camera room, when at last they came to it, was much less of a _room_ and much more of a _closet_. The cameras were mostly set up as a precaution, so if something went wrong in one part of the facility, someone monitoring could sound an alarm to the rest of the building. It was a feature they’d thought would be handy after the first fire an imbalance in the Core had caused. When Grillby last heard of it, the idea had been nothing more than a work in progress - something to spend some time on if the budget allowed. He was actually pretty relieved to see it up and running in some capacity.

Gaster took a few minutes to check the cameras and get some of the previously shut-down systems back up and running. While he worked there, Grillby got the interns settled in a small office across the hall. They… couldn’t all fit comfortably in the tiny camera room. Micael sat on the desk and immediately started munching on chisps, trying to calm his nerves. Grillby moved the chairs out from around the desk itself in case the human showed up here and they needed to barricade the door. Though if _he_ had anything to say about that, the human wouldn’t be a problem for them.

Grillby ducked back across the hall, whistling pleasantly when he saw the myriad of screens Gaster had gotten running. There were images from everywhere around the labs - though most of them were too dim to really distinguish a picture. Gaster was working on that already though, throwing a master switch at his side and slowly turning the lights back on to every floor. As he did this the final cameras came to life, their images were scattered snapshots of the _incredibly empty_ Hotlands.

“There,” Gaster pointed, tapping on one of the screens for the bottom floor, “Looks like it… killed the vending machine. _Great_.”

He pointed to a second camera, “There’s an empty chisp bag…”

Gaster flipped a switch by his side and a row of cameras changed, cycling to a new area, “Hmm… _there’s_ an empty chisp bag. We have _trash bins_ you know!”

Grillby sparked a chuckle, “A murder child with no manners. How terrible.”

Gaster pointed to another camera, this one showing an area Grillby had never been before. It glowed in colors of orange and blue.

“ _That_ is the Core Facility. If you can lead it there, there’s an elevator that’ll take you both straight to the throne room.”

Grillby nodded.

Gaster clicked his teeth together thoughtfully, pouring through a couple new camera screens before finally tapping one of his long fingers against the glass, “ _There_. See it?”

Grillby leaned in closer. The picture was blurry beyond belief, but he could _definitely_ make out the smudge of pink contrasting against the green-ish white of the rest of the labs. The girl had wandered her way back to the office Gaster and the others had been locked in, and now she was snooping around there. The room itself was barely in-camera, but she danced in and out of view of the camera lens, checking around cautiously to see if the monsters were nearby. Grillby shuddered.

Who knew the face of evil wore a pink tutu?

“Got your phone on?” Gaster asked quickly, snapping up Grillby’s attention. Grillby fished around in his pocket and pulled out his lifeline, flipping it open to check the battery. He had more than enough to last him the next few hours. He flipped it shut again and slipped it back into his pocket. Grillby let out a bracing sigh of smoke and sparks.

“Ho-kay, time to do this,” he flickered a nervous grin to Gaster, “Wish me luck I guess.”

Gaster remained straight-faced and grim, looking Grillby over as if he were seeing him for the first time in years. Grillby could almost feel the nervous magic jittering off his friend.

Gaster spoke quietly, his voice strained, “I feel like you should be wearing armor.”

Grillby allowed himself a soft laugh, one more regretful than humorous, “Yeah… I feel that way too. It’s weird isn’t it?”

Gaster nodded, and then sighed, closing his eye sockets and pinching the space between them between his finger and thumb. His shoulders slumped, his posture bent. He looked _exhausted_.

“Logically speaking, this is a good idea,” Gaster said, his voice becoming detached and a bit more calculating as he spoke, “The chances of that thing finding out a way to hurt you are small. You’re the most likely out of all of us to get it away from here without being dusted. If you need to fight back, you’d probably win… it’s… been a few years since you’ve handled something like this, but you’re more than equipped to.”

He sighed again, shaking his head and finally looking back up at Grillby, his tone regaining some of it’s former warmth and normalcy, “I’m still worried though.”

“I know,” Grillby answered quietly.

“So many things could go wrong. It could stop following you or… run somewhere we don’t want it to be or… it could still manage to kill you somehow.”

“I know.”

Gaster sighed again, watching the elemental dismally, “I’m scared, Grillby.”

Grillby flickered a frown, “I am too. But this is the only idea I’ve got.”

“You could always just… wait here with us until the guard comes,” Gaster offered lamely, to which Grillby gave the barest flicker of a tired smile.

“I couldn’t live with myself if someone else got killed out here and I did nothing,” Grillby said, his voice dropping to scarcely above a whisper.

The skeleton offered another one of his miserable sighs, “Yeah… I understand.”

Gaster moved forward then, wrapping up the elemental in a tight embrace, which Grillby returned wholeheartedly. He clutched at the fabric of Gaster’s lab coat, flushing himself into a comforting warmth. He closed his eyes and just… _felt_. And remembered. In case for some reason he’d never get to feel this closeness again. This was what Gaster felt like when he was hugging him. This was the soft vibration of their nervous souls so close together. This was the smell of chemicals and hopeful magic. This was the subtle chill of the other monster’s touch against his warmer flame.

Gaster’s grip around Grillby tightened just a bit as he whispered, “Stay safe, firefly. _Please_.”

“I will,” Grillby murmured back, “I promise.  You’ve got the cameras you can keep an eye on me.”

The two stepped apart, Gaster nodded, “I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“And I’ll do the same,” Grillby reassured him, “Is it still at the office?”

Gaster looked back at the cameras, “Yep. If you hurry you can get it before it get’s bored.”

“Right,” with that, Grillby turned and left. First at a walk, and then a jog as he hurried to get back to the elevators.

Behind him he heard that overly conspicuous whisper from Rice of, “ _I ship it!”_

Grillby crackled a laugh when the sound of someone smacking them followed.

 


	3. Achille's Heel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things start to go wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who read this the first time it went up ~ most of what changed is in the second half. Feel free to skim at your leisure I guess.

Gaster had been watching the cameras for the better part of an hour, his long fingers tapping nervously against the countertop as he waited. Grillby was in between cameras now, trapped in one of the many blind spots in the digital field of view, and Gaster was quickly figuring out that waiting for the elemental to pop up in the next screen was _nerve-wracking_. Which was hilarious really, seeing’s how Gaster had no nerves. _Gods_ his whole body had been shivering for the past half hour. There was a tenseness in his soul, an ache in his jaw that was slowly crescendoing with every shudder he tried to suppress. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous.

He darted a glance down at the watch on his wrist. Five minutes. Grillby had been in a blind spot for five minutes. If he made it to ten, Gaster would call.

The skeleton sighed out a heavy breath, feeling the air rattle its way up his ribcage and out through his teeth. _Stay calm. Wait five more minutes_.

Grillby’s plan had been a simple one, which logically meant _much less_ could go wrong in it. And as far as Gaster could tell from the snippets of the action he saw, Grillby was executing it flawlessly. The elemental had burst into the hall the human girl had been meandering around in, startling her, making her angry. Then he’d run off back towards the elevator, the bitter little human following fast behind him. He’d barely reached the elevators before she had, and she’d unfailingly followed him up to the top floor when she’d figured out that’s where he’d gone to.

Gaster had no idea how she’d found the elevator codes. Gaster himself had them memorized, and most other monsters only ever had access to one or two floors as opposed to _all_ of them. Hmm… he’d have to ask his interns if they’d ever written them down and stashed them away somewhere. Hopefully after _this_ disaster, they’d tell him the truth and learn from this. It was damn lucky so many of the regular workers had made it out when they did. How many monsters would’ve been killed if they’d just trusted that the human wouldn’t get the codes? Gaster should think about recoding the locks. Making them more cryptic maybe.

A flash darted across the screen he’d been staring at and Gaster’s vision refocused as he was wrenched out of his thoughts. _There was Grillby._ He was looking pretty disheveled. Gaster had seen the girl catch up to the elemental twice - he was pretty slow compared to her - and each time she’d hit him hard enough to very nearly knock him off his feet. Every time she did, Gaster’s very _soul_ shuddered. He could only _imagine_ what those kind of attacks would do to a normal monster, or to Gaster himself. Broken bones. Dust-causing agony. And she’d probably kick their dust halfway to oblivion and back when she left.

Gaster leaned in closer to the screen, watching as the elemental paused by one of the steam vents and making a show of catching his breath. Gaster’s eyes flickered with the barest hints of humor. Well… Grillby _was_ probably a bit less in shape than he had been when he’d last met a human. Maybe it wasn’t an act, and he actually _was_ out of breath. At any rate, he only paused there long enough for the human girl to dash into the screen. And then Grillby was on the steam vent and being rocketed across one of the lava flows. He landed rather gracefully on the other side, pausing to look back at the human girl who now hesitated on the other side.

The human paced like a caged animal in front of the vent, not quite trusting it enough to try it herself. Her pixelated figure on the screen kept jittering, her whole body moving in some frenetic set of movements that the skeleton finally realized was her yelling. She was probably cursing Grillby to death for making her run in circles like this. If Gaster had a microphone, he might try to pick up what she was saying - though honestly noise like that would probably be lost to the natural cacophony that Hotlands produced. And in such a horrid temperature, tech like that wouldn’t last long anyway.

After a few more minutes of pacing and shouting, the girl finally stepped on the steam vent. Grillby was running again before she even landed on the other side.

Then they were out of Gaster’s field of view again. The skeleton flicked his pensive gaze onto the next screen in the line, waiting for Grillby to pop up again.

A knock on the doorway nearly made him jump out of his skin - figuratively. Gaster waved a hand dismissively, not bothering to look up to see who it was. Micael pulled a chair in and sat down by Gaster, watching the screens.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

Micael was always quiet. And kind of cryptic. Gaster sometimes wondered if he and the riverperson might be distantly related somehow. But he was also one of the most promising interns of the bunch, always asking good questions and sometimes correcting mistakes no one else figured he had the experience to even _notice_.

Apparently his eye for detail had picked up on Gaster’s nerves. Not that it was terribly hard to miss. Gaster was normally pretty talkative and animated. It was probably unnerving for his interns to see him glued to the screens, barely mustering enough focus to tap his fingers on the table.

“I’m dying of anxiety,” Gaster said as flippantly as he could manage, suppressing another teeth-chattering shudder, “But otherwise fine.”

He glanced back at the screen, then down at his watch, then back at the screen. _2 minutes blind._

“So is that really your… boyfriend?” Micael asked, a smile in their voice, “I know you’ve had him around here once or twice.”

Gaster managed a tense chuckle, “No, me and Grillby aren’t a thing. If that was ever going to happen it probably would’ve happened years ago.”

Glance at his watch, glance at the screen. _Still two - no wait, three minutes blind_.

“How long _have_ you two known each other?”

Gaster actually managed a sharp laugh at this, “Longer than you’ve been alive. Longer than Asgore’s been King, actually. We fought in the war together.”

“ _Seriously?”_

“Wow, I didn’t know your voice changed, Rice,” Gaster joked, “ _Yes_ seriously. We’re old. Really _really_ -”

His voice trailed off when there was movement on the screen again. It was Grillby, hopping along a couple of steam vents, this time not daring to pause. The girl was hot on his heels. She probably would’ve caught him, but she still didn’t trust the vents completely, and hesitated before she stepped on. Gaster narrowed his eye sockets as he watched them.

“ - really old.”

“Were the humans as scary then as they are now?”

Gaster gave a noncommittal shrug, “Yes and no. Everyone I knew back then was a soldier, so they knew what was coming. Fought it. Civilians weren’t any better off though. A lot of them were dusted when the human armies came marching through.”

Gaster sighed as Grillby and the girl disappeared off the screen again, and switched his gaze once again to the next, “This girl isn’t nearly as scary as the mages though. The things that put the barrier up? Fucking terrifying.”

Gaster tapped the screen as Grillby reentered it - much quicker than the previous screens. He hadn’t stopped running.

“Grillby got sucked into that mess because the monsters needed something strong enough to kill a mage,” Gaster continued, “Him and the other elementals were the reason we lasted for so long I think. Gods know he saved my life more times than I can count.”

“And what about you?” Micael asked with a soft smile, “Do any war hero-ing?”

“Ha! No,” Gaster said with a rueful grin, “Well… I saved Grillby once or twice. I guess that counts for something. Mostly I just did healing… and messing around with souls. That was my gateway into figuring out the Core magic, actually.”

Gaster sighed, “Gods… I keep forgetting how long it’s been.”

Micael leaned back in his chair, watching as Grillby exited one screen and popped back up in another, “Well, look on the bright side - if Grillby was all that awesome back then, you know he’ll survive something like this.”

Slowly, Gaster nodded, “One can only hope.”

They lapsed into silence, watching as Grillby disappeared once again into a camera’s blind spot. This time, the pause in between jumps lasted minutes - _long, agonizing minutes_. Gaster started tapping his fingers a little faster on the table. This time when he shuddered, he couldn’t stifle it. He was getting jumpy and nervous, and was on the verge of calling when Grillby staggered back into view again. Once again, he was being tossed around by that girl as she struggled to land some kind of hit on him that would actually _hurt_. Micael cringed when one of the hits almost sent Grillby off the edge of one of the platforms and into the lava below. Not that something like that could kill Grillby - but it would probably set the girl loose in Hotlands again, with nothing to preoccupy her.

“Why doesn’t he fight back?” Micael asked, leaning in to watch as Grillby scrambled away from the girl again, “If it can’t kill him… I mean… it should be _easy_ , right? To just… get rid of it before it hurts someone else? Why bother with trying to get it captured?”

Gaster shrugged, “Asgore wants to deal with the humans _personally_. They’re to be brought to him - or at the very _least_ their souls are. Though I don’t think Grillby would even know what to do with a human soul if someone handed it to him.”

He glanced at his watch when Grillby ran off into another of the cameras’ blind spots, ready to count the minutes until the two scrambling figures reappeared.

“Besides, Grillby doesn’t need that sort of shit on his conscious,” Gaster sighed after a pause, “We… talked about it last time a human fell. They were calling all guards and at the time Grillby was still technically a part of the reserve. I made him stay in the labs as a kind of… I dunno… fake bodyguard. Sometimes having a fancy title lets you throw your weight around like that. But… he needed it. He was a nervous wreck.”

Gaster let out a tense laugh, “Who am I kidding? He was _terrified_. He was going through a really rough time and… just the _thought_ of trying to kill some kid…”

Gaster shook his head, “You probably don’t understand. It’s fine if you don’t, really. But me and Grillby knew a world where you could pretend there was enough good in humanity to make them seem a little more like monsters and a little less like… well... _humans_. Hell, a human kid saved us once. When he looks at those kids, he still sees _kids_. Terrifying, _deadly_ kids. But… it’s the _kids_ part he just can’t get past.”

Gaster scowled, “I like to pretend I could care less but... even I have to admit that working with the souls we have makes me feel a bit… cruel. You just… there’s always this thought… in the back of your head. Call it doubt if you want.”

_Eight minutes blind._

“You’re always wondering if maybe these kids don’t know any better. Like… something’s _wrong_ with them and they don’t realize they’re actually hurting people. Or maybe they’re scared and panicking or… just trying to get away,” Gaster scowled, bitterness creeping into his voice, “Or maybe they think we’re nothing more than soulless animals, that it doesn’t _matter_ if they kill us. Maybe they think they’re above consequences.”

Gaster reached for his cellphone just in time for Grillby to explode back into the camera’s view. He was racing for the Hotland elevators, and just barely managed to slam the _close doors_ button in time for the girl to skid into view. She paced angrily in front of the elevators as they went up to the top floor, and then waited in obvious annoyance for the elevator to return when she pounded her fist against the button. Gaster waited until she had lurched through the doors before switching the camera set. Grillby was standing at the exit to the top floor elevator, waiting patiently, ready to lead the girl closer to the Core. He was _so close_ to having her out of there.

Grillby was looking weary - if his little pixelated double on the screen was any indication. Right now he was leaning pretty heavily against the side of the elevators, flickering frantically and catching his breath. He’d ran most of the length of Hotland and been kicked and punched the rest of the way. He was probably starting to feel desperate. But he was _almost done_. He just had to make it _a little further_. The guards would be stationed outside the Core. Help would be there. He just had a few more rooms to go.

Micael frowned, “Do the elevators normally take that long?”

Gaster glanced down at his watch. Uh… no. Actually they didn’t. Gaster started flipping through cameras, reaching to call Grillby only to open his phone just as his ringtone started going off. He answered and set the phone on speaker, wincing when he realized the line was filled with static - he _really_ needed to do something about the cell service by the Core.

“Hey Gaster, what’s up?”

Oh _gods_ Grillby sounded exhausted. His voice was thin and quiet, barely distinguishable above the static feedback.

“Don’t worry, I’m finding her now,” Gaster chirped back, mustering as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could manage - and rolled his eyes at the teasing grin Micael flashed him, “Just give me a few seconds… she must’ve gotten out on the wrong floor.”

“Yeah, these elevators are confusing,” Grillby said with a heavy sigh, “I just hope I don’t have to actually drag her in here with me. Being locked in a small room with _that_ isn’t going to be fun.”

Gaster let out a tense laugh, “You know I can see why you’d think that -- oh! There found her. She’s in… uh… weird.”

Gaster squinted at the camera screen, “Why the hell --?”

“Where is she?”

“She went back to the bottom floor,” Gaster frowned, “She just walked out of L1.”

There was a pause, and Grillby said, “Come again?”

“Sorry,” Gaster said, leaning a little closer to the phone, “She walked out of _Left One_. The bottom floor elevator on the left side.”

An unsettling silence crackled its way across the phone speaker. Gaster glanced down at the phone, “You still there?”

“Yeah… I am.”

Well, _that_ was a shift in tone. Why was he suddenly sounding so… dismal?

“Grillby? What’s wrong?”

“Just… thinking…”

There was a tense sigh into the speaker and Gaster blinked down questioningly, as if somehow the phone could give him the answer as to why suddenly Grillby was sounding so grim.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I just…” the elemental started, and then paused. Micael tapped on Gaster’s shoulder, and then pointed up at the screen. Grillby was pacing by the elevator, running a hand across his head nervously, his flame flickering through every sick and scared color Gaster had ever seen on him. Greens and yellows and pallid white all pixelated and blurred together on the screen, flashing brightly.

“Grillby?”

“So I was just thinking,” Grillby started talking suddenly, “Uh - it’s - sorry this is going to sound awkward but -- I just wanted you to know that… I… I love you.”

Grillby had stopped pacing in the camera’s view, just standing and… staring at some point in the distance, his free hand still grasping the back of his head as if that could somehow help him say what he was saying now. Gaster couldn’t stop watching him. There was a panicked tightness growing in his ribcage, and his hands gripped the table in an effort to keep that feeling from bursting out of him.

“I - wh - I mean uh… you’ve - you’ve been my best friend forever. The minute you walked into my life, everything about me that was missing was completed,” Grillby continued, shifting on his feet where he stood, “I would probably be dead without you - for more reasons than you’ll _ever_ know. And… there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thankful you’re in my life - and I’ve always had faith in what you’re doing okay? You’re going to do great things for monsters everywhere - already have! And you’re going to _keep_ doing amazing things for years. You’re a wonderful monster Gaster. Don’t forget that ever, okay?”

Silence.

Gaster… hardly knew what to think, let alone what to _say_ to that. He… what _could_ he say to that? Why… why was Grillby talking about this right _now?_

“Th… thanks. I love you too,” Gaster finally managed to stammer, and then more firmly, “ _Why_ are you telling me this?”

There was a pause, and then a very insistent, “… because I needed to tell you.”

“Okay, but _why_ did you need to tell me?”

In the camera, Grillby was moving again, stepping into the elevator.

“Grillby, goddamnit _why did you need to tell me that?_ ” Gaster shouted into the phone, jumping to his feet, _frantic_ , “What do you know that I don’t? What’s going on?!”

“It’s nothing, really,” Grillby said with a forced laugh, his voice breaking even more as the elevator walls obscured the line, “Just… superstitious nonsense… probably. I just… wanted to make sure I told you. Keep… keep an eye on everything okay? I’m… kinda scared over here.”

_“What are you scared of?!”_

“Something the riverperson said.”

Gaster blinked at phone, “What… did the riverperson say?”

Grillby laughed again, a nervous and wincing sham of the warm and comforting laugh Gaster knew him for, “This is… this is really dumb I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have freaked me out this much really. I’m sorry I just…”

A pause.

“Gaster where did you say the girl was?”

Gaster muttered a soft curse and started flipping through cameras again, “Uh… she _was_ outside of L1. I don’t… see her on all the connected cameras though.”

“I’ll look around,” Grillby said, “I’ll call you back when I find her.”

“O... kay…” Gaster said slowly, “Wait… you’re getting off the phone? After _that_ speech you just gave?!”

Grillby chuckled, “Sorry Gaster, I’d rather her not trash the phone when she finds me.”

There was a pause, “Seriously though I love you. Don’t forget that.”

“I… love you too,” Gaster said quietly, “Stay safe.”

There was a sigh on the other end, and then the line cut off. Gaster sat down heavily in his chair and blinked at the phone for a few more seconds, suddenly feeling very much like… crying. He felt… he felt exactly like he was standing beside some monster’s deathbed and being told there was no saving them. He… why had Grillby...?

Micael raised an eyebrow at Gaster, “Does he normally get that sentimental?”

Gaster shook his head, “Not unless he’s had too much to drink.”

He blinked down at the phone in his hands, still confused and feeling more than a little distraught. He wanted to call Grillby back. He wanted to call him back and demand an explanation and _demand he stay safe._ That entire speech was way too ‘famous last words’ dramatic for Gaster’s tastes. And he had _no intention_ of losing Grillby today. Gaster shook his head a bit harsher this time, trying to clear away the fuzzy emotions. Right. No, he couldn’t be emotional right now. He needed to focus on the cameras and finding that girl. He needed to _help_. To make sure whatever Grillby was worrying about didn’t happen.

Gaster quickly started flipping through cameras again, a renewed determination to find the human building up in his soul. He caught a glance of Grillby twice, the elemental cautiously picking his way back towards the entrance to Hotlands with all the care of someone trying to walk on glass.

“This just doesn’t make any sense though,” Gaster said with growing frustration, thinking out-loud, “Why would she _backtrack?_ I mean… she might’ve pushed the wrong floor for the elevators but wouldn’t she _know_ she’s been to this part of Hotlands before and correct herself?”

Micael shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t know how the elevators work? They run from left to right as well as up and down. That’s a pretty weird thing.”

“Well _yes_ , but she’s been following every movement Grillby has made flawlessly up until this point. It doesn’t make sense for this to _just_ be a mistake,” Gaster said persistently, “But if she did this on purpose… why did she come back here? There’s _nothing here_. I mean… she’s not on any of the lab cameras, so she didn’t come back to the lab. I don’t -”

There was a glimpse of pink and Gaster leaned in closer to the screen. That was an outdoor Hotland camera. He flicked to the next in line and saw nothing, and then flicked two back. There… there she was! She was just taking a leisurely stroll back towards the entrance to Hotlands.

“Why… why is she heading for _Waterfall?_ ” Gaster asked nervously, “It’s crawling with guards right now. And there’s no way Grillby would even _think_ of following her in there. She’s dumb if she thinks he will.”

Gaster flipped one more camera. The girl was already on the next screen, huddled by the bridge between Waterfall and Hotland and messing with some object there. Gaster frowned, leaning closer to the screen to try and get a better look.

“What is that?”

 

* * *

 

Grillby walked. He didn’t run. He didn’t jog. He _walked_. Because honestly that was all he had the energy for. His whole body felt like it might collapse into a little puddle of fire on the ground at any moment, like his core was too exhausted to hold him together properly. _Gods_ he was tired. All this running. All this nervousness and panic. He wasn’t equipped for it, not like he used to be. Though even when he was running onto battlefields he couldn’t remember ever running _this much_. Not all at once anyway. Maybe he shouldn’t fault himself for being so exhausted now.

He needed to find that girl. He needed to find her _hopefully_ before she found him. But Grillby hadn’t seen her yet and Gaster hadn’t called back, so for now he just wandered.

_What was she planning?_

She _had_ to be planning _something_. Nothing this child did seemed to be random - well, nothing save for the killing, which Grillby was sure she had some justification for in her own demented human way. Humans were good at that - coming up with good reasons to hurt people. Grillby frowned. Monsters weren’t much different in that regard though, even if they pretended they weren’t. Maybe he shouldn’t judge.

Gods he hoped she wasn’t trying to lead him into Waterfall. That would just be the bitter icing on the dust-covered cake. Having led her _all that way_ just for her to go someplace he couldn’t follow? To have expended all that effort just for her to go running right into the path of a bunch of monsters he’d be helpless to protect? _Gods_ that would be terrible.

And then there was that stupid premonition of the riverperson’s. _The left one is death_. Grillby shuddered. He’d traveled down the L1 elevator and he wasn’t dead… _yet_. But the riverperson had an uncanny way of predicting even the most obscure things, and the fact that this girl had suddenly become unpredictable _just_ as something the riverperson said became relevant… well to Grillby that might as well be a death sentence. Or maybe the fear of the day had finally gotten to him, and he was making stupid, baseless assumptions.

He’d probably scared the shit out of Gaster with his stupid ramblings. Grillby owed him a drink and an explanation later.

If there _was_ a later.

Grillby hesitated for a few seconds at the crossroads by the river, peering towards the riverperson’s dock. He’d expected to see the human there, plotting his demise somewhere off in the distance. She wasn’t. He turned to walk instead towards the bridge to Waterfall, stopping short after a few steps when he saw the warping of color in the distance. There she was, a flickering bit of pink that rippled in the waves of heat that came up from the ground. Grillby breathed out a breath of smoke, feeling everything in his body tense nervously. Right. He just had to get her attention and run again. Simple. Easy.

He could do this.

He’d almost done it once.

It was going to be a pain in the ass, but he could lure her to the Core. He’d just have to be more diligent this time.

Grillby’s phone suddenly started ringing, making both him and the girl jump. _Shit_. He’d forgotten to call Gaster.

“Hey, sorry!” Grillby said quickly into the phone, feeling a jolt of nervousness as the girl turned to face him, “I gotta go I f -”

Gaster cut him off mid-sentence.

“Grillby come back to the labs now.”

“What? Why?”

“She’s at the water cooler,” Gaster chirped quickly into the phone, “We don’t know how much water she has -”

In the background Micael chirped, “She could still be kind of harmless? But probably not!”

A cold, creeping panic seeped its way down Grillby’s spine like sweat. A thousand churning emotions buzzed just below the gulp of breath that was lodged in his throat. Part of him wanted to laugh because of just how _ridiculous_ this sounded. The girl had found a water cooler. She was going to try to kill him a cup full of pain at a time. This was almost as outrageously _stupid_ as Achilles and the arrow in his heel, and Grillby was _terrified_ regardless.

He started backing away slowly, still holding his breath as if somehow that would make him less noticeable. Maybe…. Maybe she hadn’t seen him? She wasn’t walking in his direction yet. Everything in Hotland looked like it was on fire, right? He could sort of blend in here?

“Grillby? Grillby you’re not on my cameras where are you?”

Grillby took a breath to answer, and in that same second the girl was springing towards him with those lunging strides that he could never seem outrun. Grillby spun on his heel and sprinted. Where could he go _where could he go?_ He couldn’t go back to the labs, he’d just run her right into Gaster and the others, and he _wouldn’t_ risk getting them killed somehow. The elevators then. Maybe he could lose her there. At the very least it might buy him some time.

Grillby ran as fast as he could, praying he didn’t step on anything or trip. But he was _tired_. He was _so fucking tired_. He’d been running so much today he was nearly spent. He was clumsy and slow, and every other step threatened to turn his ankle and send him sprawling. And he could hear that girl running behind him, her rapid footsteps sharp and dissonant against the sound of his heavy footfalls and ragged gasps.

The inevitable happened - Grillby tripped. He tried to catch himself, barely managing to throw his arms up in time to keep from sliding face-first into the gravel. Oh _gods_. He was tired. He was _so tired_. He just wanted to curl up on the ground and wait for breathing to feel _normal_ again. But he couldn’t do that. He needed to at least _try_ to defend himself. Grillby shoved himself to his feet, turning to face the coming human and _finally_ stand his ground.

Right. Gaster had said she’d found water. This was going to _hurt_. But she’d gotten it out of a water cooler for heaven’s sakes! It couldn’t be that bad right? She couldn’t kill him with that right?

Grillby struck first because he knew if he didn’t he’d never land another hit. He reached out with a wave of flame, hoping that maybe if he burned her bad enough on the first hit she’d rethink what she was doing and retreat. The girl narrowed her eyes at him, face set in a determined scowl, and she _danced_. Graceful and smooth, ducking and twirling delicately out of the reach of every burst of flame he threw, weaving ever closer to him until she could land one of those furious kicks across his chest that always threw him off balance. He stumbled back a few steps, trying to grab ahold of some magic and regain his balance in the same motion.

The girl slipped something from her inventory and threw it, and Grillby was _blindsided_ by how painful it was. Piercing _cold_ stabbed its way across his shoulder, and his screech was nearly drowned out by the sound of the steam that fizzled into existence in its wake. Grillby swung forward his magic, letting out a sharp breath of dismay when the girl dodged it effortlessly again. The next cup she threw sent cold across his neck and face, and he felt the jolt in his soul as a chunk of his hp was ripped away. Gods _it hurt_. It seeped like acid across his core, hungry and biting as it put out his flame bit by bit.

The last bit of magic Grillby threw was blind and desperate, and he didn’t even have to see to know it missed. And then she doused him again. And again. And again. It soaked into his clothes and smothered his breathing. He hissed and stumbled as it stabbed at his arms when he lifted them to shield himself. He could feel every aching _lurch_ his soul gave as more and more of his flame was put out.

He didn’t cry and he didn’t scream. He didn’t beg. He doubted she would understand a word if he did anyway. He just coughed his smoke, and shielded himself as best he could and endured. Until everything about him felt like the stinging cold of water and the cracking of a core so cool it was nearly falling apart to dust in places.

Grillby didn’t know _when_ she ran out of water to throw at him. Just that she _did_. And that he was blearily surprised he’d actually survived long enough for her to run out. By then he was smoldering on the ground, feeling very much like someone was holding cold weights against his throat and chest. _Everything hurt_. Everywhere his wet clothes touched him was so agonizingly cool it nearly burned. His arms were stiff and painful from shielding himself. He was dizzy and sick with cold and shivering and gasping because no matter how much he breathed he still felt like he was suffocating.

He was so cold. He was so cold he could just… curl up and die there… so cold he was sure if he passed out where he lay he’d go numb and never feel anything again.

But...

He… couldn’t…

Do that…

It was with a strangled sort of groan that Grillby hauled himself to his feet, wounded and shivering. _Miserable_. Exhausted. Feeling very much like he was falling down and too exhausted to look through his stats to see if he actually was. The girl was nowhere in his blurring sight, but she’d be back. Some painful, ugly dread in his soul knew for _sure_ she would be back. He needed to… hide. He… needed…

He needed to see Gaster.

Gods he _wanted_ to see Gaster. Honestly that was all he wanted. Gaster always made him feel warm. And safe. He just… He just wanted…

Grillby stumbled and fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually had this particular chapter rewritten for the past couple of weeks now I've just been too much of a coward to post it because I'm still afraid it sucks. But I'm currently sick with a cold and incredibly jaded, so now is the best time to post.  
> I guarantee if I take this down again, it'll be deleting the entire story permanently. But we're going to try not to do that, since I'm tired of seeing this unfinished in my documents.


	4. Never Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which integrity wins

“Grillby? _Grillby!”_

Gaster ran reckless until his soul was dizzy, dread spurring him one lunging step at a time. His world was a blur of colors and fear, of the gasp of his own breaths and the jolt of each footstep that hit the ground, desperate to find the elemental in the mess of what was left of Hotlands. His feet crunched through dust and he ignored it. His whole body jolted with the alien feeling of the run, every bone and joint feeling unnatural in his panic.

He’d seen it. He’d seen _enough_. Watching from those cameras, helpless, screaming into a phone that Grillby had long forgot he was even holding. He’d watched the elemental scramble, run, trip and fall. He’d watched the girl catch up to him, watched the useless motion as Grillby tried to defend himself. Gaster’s whole body had gone stiff with shock and horror, his soul squeezed by the tight grip of terror.

And then thoughtlessly, _impulsively_ , like some reflex had awakened in him that he didn’t even know he had, _he’d run_. He’d ignored the shouts and pleas from his interns to stay, of their assurances that the guard would come soon, the warnings that he could do _nothing_ but watch Grillby die or die as well.

Gaster refused. He refused to sit there and watch his best friend be ripped away from him. Some fundamental component of his soul spurred him into motion and now he couldn’t stop. So here he was careening through Hotlands, screaming for Grillby, praying that he’d somehow make it in time to help. He’d give his life, he’d give his _soul_. Just let him get there in time to help!

 _If it wasn’t already too late_.

He’d known this would happen. Somewhere in the depths of his soul the dread of something awful had started building like the bile in his nonexistent stomach just before a retch. It teemed in his chest like bitter and unsettled magic, warning, _scolding_.

She’d find a way. He’d _known_ she’d find a way to hurt Grillby – it didn’t matter how impervious the elemental thought he was! It didn’t matter how foolishly optimistic Gaster could be in believing _just this once_ nothing would go wrong. Humans were experts at tearing the world apart. And now Gaster’s world was crumbling. Crumbling faster than his feet were flying as he tore his way through Hotlands. Faster than he panicked breaths and feverish, repeating prayers to nothing that he would make it in time to help. That he wouldn’t stumble upon a pile of dust. He needed Grillby to be safe. _He needed Grillby to be safe!_ He couldn’t live with himself knowing he’d allowed his best friend to waltz right to his death. Knowing he hadn’t stopped the elemental from doing something _completely doomed_ before it even began!

And then there was that stupid… _speech_ Grillby had given just before everything had gone wrong. How had he known? How had he known all of this was about to come caving in? How could he say that garbled mess of emotional bullshit and just _hang up_ as if Gaster didn’t have a thousand things to say in return? Gaster didn’t know if he should be pissed or frantic, and the confusion in his emotions stung tears at the back of his eye sockets.

Grillby better be alive. He had _better be alive_ or Gaster would - ! He - ! He would…! Probably be too devastated to do anything about it… if he were… _completely_ honest with himself. He… didn’t know what he’d do if he was too late. He… could never picture any aspect of his life without Grillby somehow attached to it. They’d known each other for so long… they… there was no way they could… he couldn’t image a world where… oh… _gods_.

It took a concentrated effort for Gaster to keep from giving in to his panic, his mind jumping through a thousand scenarios he wasn’t prepared for yet.

“Grillby!” Gaster called into the mess around him, his voice cracking and breaking against every bit of stone and gravel, warping against the dust in the air, fighting back the despair and hopelessness that welled up in his soul when he heard no answer. He was getting close, he _knew_ he was getting close. He should see them by now he - !

He turned another corner in the path, scanning around frantically for anything recognizable. The lights of his eyes fell across a form lying ahead of him, curled up against the gravel that littered the ground. His breath left him in a rush.

“Oh gods – oh no no _no no gods!_ ”

Gaster was at his friend’s side in a second, kneeling down hesitantly, too scared to touch him, terrified the wounded elemental would shatter like glass the minute he did. Grillby was hurt, _badly_ , curled up on the ground in agony, too incoherent to even hear Gaster calling for him as he knelt by his side. His battered clothes were soaked, the fabric clung to him and smothered his flame. On his neck and a few patches on his face as well, the flame was out completely, revealing the elemental’s cracked and cooling core underneath. His breaths came in soft, shallow, _painful_ gasps that rattled and winced and sometimes sent curls of smoke writhing into the bitter air.

_Grillby was dying._

That thought hit Gaster like a punch in the chest, and his hands shook and his breathing hitched when the realization washed over him. And he was crying he realized distantly, repeating Grillby’s name over and over again and empty reassurances, wiping his eyes frantically to keep the meddlesome tears from adding to the water that was slowly strangling out Grillby’s flame.

Grillby shifted then, slowly, _painfully_ , something about Gaster’s presence and his senseless babbling rousing him. A strangled hiss of smoke winced out of his throat and he whispered; “…. _G… aster…?”_

“I-it’s okay,” Gaster murmured, half to Grillby and half to himself, “It’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be fine I swear. I’m here – oh _gods_ how could she do this to you?”

Grillby flickered in something like recognition, blinking his eyes open blearily to peer up at his friend, “Why are you here...?”

Gaster flashed Grillby a pitiful, miserable smile, “You didn’t _honestly think_ I’d sit up in that room and watch you die.”

“… Shouldn’t have come…”

It was a protest, and it was weak and sad and defeated. Gaster tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore how hopeless it sounded. Tried to ignore how _stupid_ it was. Of _course_ Gaster shouldn’t have come, and Grillby never should have left on this fool’s errand. But Gaster would be damned if he let Grillby die out here alone.

Gaster did his best to still his crying as he worked, checking through Grillby’s stats, taking stock of _just how badly_ he’d been hurt and fighting the urge to devolve into a hysterical mess when he saw it. Most of Grillby’s hp was gone, more of it whittling down by the second as the moisture that was soaked into the elemental’s clothes worked to smother the rest of his flame that fought to stay lit. Slowly, agonizingly, he was dying a second at a time. And Gaster immediately set to work making sure that _stopped_. Even getting the bartender’s drenched vest off would help. _Anything_ would help. Gaster went about getting the buttons undone, cursing his shaking hands as they fumbled and shivered. He reached forward to work on the elemental’s shirt next, only to stop short when Grillby flinched beneath him.

He didn’t have the time to ask what was wrong. With a grunt of effort Grillby lurched forward, catching Gaster by the lab coat and dragging him to the side. There was a flash of pink that slashed its way across Gaster’s peripheral, the lightning fast kick just nicking Grillby’s shoulder as he lurched to the side as well. Then Gaster was scrambling to his feet and out of Grillby’s grasp, somehow managing to lunge between the girl and his friend before she could drag more water out of her inventory.

“Wait stop! Please!” Gaster shrieked, “He’s not hurting you - he’s - we don’t want to fight you, _alright?_ ”

The girl danced a step away from him, and _danced_ was the only way Gaster could describe it - her movements were fluid and calculated, graceful. Her face was unreadable. She looked defensive as well, body half-crouched as if she expected to have to dodge away from some attack. Gaster felt the tug on his soul as she started checking through his stats, and he gasped past his mounting panic. _She was going to try to fight him._

“Wait! I don’t want to fight you!” he stammered, hands spread out placatingly towards her, trying to signal _somehow_ that he _didn’t want this!_ She just glared at him uncomprehendingly - she didn’t speak their language. Did Gaster even speak hers? He _used_ to, _years_ ago. Gods he could hardly even remember - ! Gaster sputtered out a few words, finally managing to spit out the one in her language that he was looking for.

“M-mercy! _Mercy!_ Right? You _understand_ that, _right?!_ ”

She took another step back away from him, but he watched realization break across her face. She spoke back at him, quickly and frenzied and in an accent he didn’t remember humans having. It took him several long seconds to process what she was saying, his fear and confusion making his thoughts slow.

“You can talk? _You can talk!”_

“Yes, _yes_ , I can talk,” Gaster said with a terrified laugh, fumbling over the language, trying to say the right things, “Please s-stop, okay? I don’t… fight. I don’t _want_ to fight. Let’s just talk. _Please!”_

“Where’s my sister?” she demanded suddenly, and Gaster flinched at it, “She’s here! I _know_ she is! I’m going to save her! _Where is she?_ ”

“I - I don’t -”

“This is the mountain right? Where people go and they don’t come back?”

Gaster didn’t know human expressions too well, but if they were anything like the expressions on monsters, this girl looked desperate. _Sounded_ desperate. And desperate was _bad_. Desperate meant she was emotionally unstable, that he couldn’t predict what she was going to do next. Gaster shuffled a foot back, ready to spring away from her if something went wrong. He kept his hands where they were though, trying to coax her into calming down somehow.

“Sure, yes, that’s the mountain,” he had no idea if this was the right mountain or not honestly, “Did you bring your sister down here with you?”

“No! They said she was here!” the girl shouted, “I _know_ she’s here!”

“H-how do you know she’s here?”

“Because they said she wasn’t coming back,” oh man, she sounded devastated - how old was she? “And this is the place where people go if they don’t come back!”

“Okay, okay,” Gaster said placatingly, trying to sound… well… like he _wasn’t_ completely lost right now, “Uh… what… what does she look like?”

 _There,_ now she looked more relieved. Like she was actually getting somewhere with this conversation. Her posture was relaxing as she focused more on talking than she did on being threatening. And terrifying. And really everything she _already was_ , regardless of whether she was trying to be or not. She was immediately rattling off a description - most of it superfluous child nonsense about favorite colors and random habits. Gaster only paid as much attention to it as he had to.

What did he _do?_ He couldn’t stand here and entertain this child, not with Grillby lying just feet away from him, smothering to death. He had to get him stable, to get him _healed_. And Gaster couldn’t do that _and_ keep this child from killing people at the same time! He needed the guard. No. He needed the _King_. Asgore could handle this. The child was ferocious, but what was a misguided, bitter child to a boss monster?

“I… uh… I kn-know where she is,” Gaster stammered, his soul jittering in his chest. He felt nauseous and terrified to be lying to this dangerous thing that was standing before him, but he honestly didn’t know what else to do. He had her full attention now, her gaze sharp and severe and terrifyingly hopeful. It was unnerving.

“Well… that is - I don’t - uh… I don’t have her but… but the King. He’ll know - he’ll uh… this way. I can. I can take you to him.”

“ _No_ ,” she barked back, suddenly scowling, “You bring her _here_.”

Gaster felt a pang of panic lance it’s way from his soul down his spine, “I… can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

It was a snarled question that sounded more like a command than anything, a demand for an answer. All the hopefulness that had been in her expression was gone. She was angry and defensive again, seething with bitterness that Gaster could almost _feel_.

“You’re lying,” she growled, taking an angry step towards him - and Gaster winced and mirrored it back, “ _Where is she?”_

“Child I think you’re mistaken,” Gaster pleaded, hands still outstretched placatingly as she advanced another step, “I… I don’t think your sister is here.”

“She is!” she screamed, sounding the strangest mix of furious and distraught, “They told me she is! Give her back!”

“They told you wrong!” Gaster argued back frantically, panic clipping his words short, “Don’t be stupid child! You _know_ she’s not here!”

For a few seconds this stopped her dead, and a sprig of hope blossomed in Gaster’s chest. She was staring at him, eyes wide and her scowl for a moment quivering. Like she might cry. Like she might _stop_. She knew. Of course she knew. She was hurting, she was in denial. She was holding on stubbornly to a fantasy spurred by loyalty and childish stupidity, reinforced by whatever wretched creatures had been unable to explain to her where people _really_ go when they never come back.

Gaster could almost, for a second, feel sorry for her.

“You’re lying,” she whispered.

And then in a flash she sprung forward, screaming, “ _You’re lying!”_

Gaster just barely managed to dodge out of the way in time, the girl’s sweeping kick of an attack missing him by a breath or less. This surprised her. No one had ever been fast enough to escape her before. She could barely stop her forward momentum before the edge of the platform they stood on, scattering gravel into the lava of Hotlands below them. She whipped around to face Gaster again, childishly confused for a blink before she sprung back for him, and Gaster leaped into motion in response.

They danced, a blur of motion as Gaster desperately tried to avoid her and the girl attacked again and again. He tried pleading with her breathlessly a few more times, hoping she’d see reason, but she’d closed herself off to him. All she was now was glaring and scowling and furious motion, and it was all Gaster could do to keep out of her way.

In spite of himself, he used his magic. He didn’t want to. He was a _scientist_ for gods’ sakes! And a doctor before that! He didn’t _want_ to harm people. He wanted to _help_ \- and his attacks were horrendously weak because of this. But Gaster didn’t have time to try and convince her to stop. He kept glancing at Grillby and hoping the elemental hadn’t collapsed into dust yet, watching as with every passing minute the elemental’s flame flickered lower, watching as the patches that were out completely started to spread. Gaster didn’t have _time_ to dodge and pray this girl eventually just collapsed from exhaustion. He had to do something about this.

With a writhing in his soul, he fought, and the first thing he used was blue magic.

He tossed her, slamming her into the gravel whenever she got too close to him. He increased her gravity to slow her down as his glittering white bone attacks manifested into existence. Once or twice he even hazarded to manifest a blaster, the great skull-creature writhing to life in the air above him to fire their deadly rays through parted teeth - though he learned quickly it wasn’t worth the magic or energy to make them. She dodged everything artfully, _especially_ the blasters with how slow they were to aim and fire; it was all practiced skill learned from fighting her way through the entirety of the Underground. She knew how monster magic worked now, and even besides that she was fast and full of harmful intent. If ever one of Gaster’s attacks finally landed and snapped a bit of her hp away, she brushed it off like it was nothing.

Honestly, it could have been nothing to her. Gaster wasn’t a fighter. While his attacks were many, fast and innovative, they were far from truly _harmful_. He didn’t have the intent, or the strength. His soul was too fragile when compared to hers. He had one thing in his favor though. Full as the girl’s inventory was with water, she probably had no healing items to use. Their fight, in that regard at least, was fair.

Gaster slid underneath another one of her furious kicks and with a flash of blue sent the human face-first into the gravel - and into a handful of bone attacks as well. She screeched past the pricks they put in her soul and staggered back to her feet only to be whisked away again. This time she managed to keep her balance and kick off the ground before she could land on the deadly bones, and Gaster scowled as she broke free of his blue. He dodged past a handful of her kicks and hits, breathless from how close they shaved past him, and with a shove he nearly sent her into the gravel again. She recovered her footing quickly, even against his blue magic, and lunged for him again. This time when he dodged, her hands wrapped around the hem of his lab coat.

With a spin and a harsh pull she yanked him off his feet, and Gaster landed with a startled grunt on the floor, feeling a sliver of his hp sink away against the gravel at his back. He managed to scramble to his feet in time to dodge another of the girl’s attacks -- ! Only to stumble right into the one she followed up with. She hit him hard enough and with a heavy enough intent that she sent him sprawling, and he was so shocked from the suddenness of it that at first, he felt nothing. Then he felt the corkscrewing pain of a heavy crack go through his ribs come crashing over him in waves, and then a heavy, nauseous agony as he hit the ground and exaggerated whatever wound she’d left in him. Gaster coughed and cried and choked when the breath he gasped just made his ribs hurt _worse_.

It was a force of will just to stagger back to his feet again, a hand clutched to his chest, his whole body curled slightly in the hopes of relieving the pain. Gods, she’d broken something. _Badly_. Leaking magic bloomed across his shirt in vibrant color and pooled against the back of his teeth, too bitter to swallow. The sharp smell of it flooded his senses, and in his panic all he could think was this was bad, _bad very bad!_ It pricked tears into his eyesockets, sent heavy painful wheezes of panic ripping through his chest and a spinning, dizzy weakness rocking through his skull. He was bleeding. He shouldn’t be _bleeding_.

She rushed for him again and with a feeble shove Gaster pushed her back with blue, his grip flickering out in an instant. He took a step back away from her and tripped, landing hard on his back again and swallowing a sharp cry of pain. When he opened his bleary eyes, he realized he’d tripped over Grillby. The elemental’s flame was _so low_ , smothering further in places. At some point he’d curled inward on himself, eyes closed, either exhausted or unconscious.

Gaster reached shakily and wrapped his hand around his friend’s, feeling the seeping warmth, normally _much_ warmer and now only a hollow flicker of what it should be. Gaster held Grillby’s hand tightly in his own bony fingers and tried to stop himself from shaking. Tried to still the pain and fear that left him paralyzed, even as his mind raced. He was in too much pain to stand, too dizzy to dodge even if he managed to. His hp was leaking away with the gross and dripping magic that seeped through the cracks the girl had snapped into his bones. Fighting was useless, and this girl had long given up on listening to him speak – though at this point it was hard enough for Gaster to just _breathe_ let alone beg for his life.

He… didn’t know what to do. He… couldn’t stop this.

They were going to die.

Gaster buried his face in the sleeve of his lab coat so he couldn’t watch the girl walk towards them. He was sorry. He was so _so sorry_. He couldn’t say it out loud, but he hoped somehow between all the magic in the air and how fervently he thought it and how tightly his hand clung to Grillby’s that the elemental might feel it before they both crumbled away.

He was sorry he’d let Grillby go on this fool’s errand. He was sorry he hadn’t come to help the elemental sooner, sorry that he wasn’t strong enough to save them both. He was sorry it’d ended up this way.

But he… _wasn’t_ sorry… he was here.

He knew that with certain, cool clarity.

He would never be sorry that he’d come to help. He would never be sorry that he _tried_ to save his friend, or be sorry they were friends in the first place. Gaster was filled with the greatest pride and fondness for Grillby, the most love he could possibly feel. Grillby had been trying to help, trying to do what was _right_ , even though he was afraid. Even though this wasn’t his job anymore and he knew death could be the consequence. Gaster was terrified of dying here, dying now - but knowing they’d be escorting each other off was a bit comforting.

So Gaster clung to Grillby and he waited, trying not to listen to the approaching footsteps. Trying to ignore the stifling feeling of intent in the air. Trying to swallow the dread that was building in his throat with the rest of the magic he was bleeding. The footsteps stopped just beside him and Gaster flinched, his breath stuttering painfully when he did.

The girl shifted. Gaster could hear the rough shuddering of the gravel beneath her feet. He refused to look at her. He was… _scared_. If he was going to die he figured it was better if he didn’t see it coming. And so with a preemptive wince he lay  there and waited and… selfishly hoped she killed him before she killed Grillby. He didn’t want to see his friend’s dust. Except… she didn’t attack him again. For several agonizingly long seconds she just stood there and watched him, catching her breath.

And then she… she walked away.

Gaster’s eyes snapped open when she did, and he let out a wheeze of a painful breath - whether it was a sigh of relief or he’d actually been holding his breath there, honestly he didn’t know. He just knew he… couldn’t believe she’d _left_. Gaster could’ve wept, if he had the energy or the magic left to form tears. Though he was glad he didn’t. It would just hurt him more. He tried once to sit up, but as soon as he moved his chest hurt him too much and he sunk to the ground again, grimacing against the sickening feeling of his own bleeding magic pooling against him. Gaster’s breath hitched miserably in all he could muster of a laugh. Maybe that’s why she’d left them there. They were going to die anyway. Grillby needed help, and Gaster couldn’t stand. And… Gaster was still bleeding magic and hp.

Two of the Underground’s strongest monsters, one because of magic, the other because of wit. Both of them brought to the brink of falling by one clever, misguided child. It was almost funny.

Unable to stand, unable to really move, Gaster succumbed to the growing feeling of exhaustion through his body.

He slept.

 

<hr />

 

Gaster awoke some time later. He couldn’t tell how much later, only that time had passed, and that he was no longer laying on the cracked earth of Hotlands. A dozen sharp and sterile smells assaulted the inside of his skull, angering an exhausted headache there. His body felt stiff from lack of movement, his mouth tasted like solvent and healing magic. But whatever he was laying on was soft and warm, and would’ve enticed him back to sleep if the humming of machinery were absent.

Gaster opened his eyes and confirmed his suspicions - he was in a hospital in the Capitol. He was alive.

Gaster sat up slowly, taking stock of every movement and the surprising lack of pain he felt. There was a subtle ache in his chest, partly the ache of a soul empty of magic, and partly the ache of some fracture hiding in his ribs. Whoever had healed him hadn’t been able to fix him up all the way. He managed to look down his shirt and _just_ make out a hair-thin, spiraling crack curling around his bones. There was a small amount of color there, agitated magic ready to start bleeding out again if he broke the fracture apart any further. A dull ache whined at him there when he moved.

Gaster rubbed the side of his face tiredly and looked around the room. On a whiteboard across from him was written his name and a neat list of all the bones he’d broken, which ones were healed and which ones still needed work. Someone had brought him flowers - probably an intern. The room was small, with one chair that looked untouched save for his dust and dirt smudged lab coat that lay draped across it. There was only enough room for his bed besides, and some monitoring equipment.

There was no sign of Grillby.

Gaster reached with tired blue magic and dragged his coat to the bed, barely able to snake the cumbersome thing across the floor. In the same motion he managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed, groaning and doubling over just a bit when the ache in his chest intensified. Just dragging the coat to a stop by his feet was exhausting. Gaster took a few moments to steady himself before he slowly got to his feet, pulling the coat on around his shoulders. It reeked of his stale, bled magic and dust, but he’d feel incomplete if he left without it.

Slowly, tiredly, Gaster shuffled out of his room and down the hall. Apparently his room was the last in the hallway - good. It was an easy place to start looking. He paced down the corridor, leaning against the wall for support, trying not to feel too pathetic about his weakness. He’d lost a lot of magic; this was to be expected. He should be grateful he was even alive.

The doctor read off the names in all the doorways as he went, looking for the only one that mattered to him, trying not to expect anything. In the back of his mind was a dreadful fog like shock. It put cold hands around his soul, forbidding him from feeling hopeful. Half of Gaster wanted to think that if help had made it to _him_ , then it should have made it to Grillby as well. The other half of him knew very well that Grillby had been much worse off that Gaster had been.

Gaster passed a nurse’s station - sneaking as best a hospitalized skeleton could sneak - and almost a dozen rooms before he finally found the one with Grillby’s name listed on it. He welcomed the ache in his chest when he sighed with relief.

Inside the elemental was still sleeping, lying still as death on the standardized hospital bed. There was a monitor off to the side of him charting levels of magic. Gaster knew the basics of such machines, but he’d dropped out of the medical sciences _long_ before technology like this had been made for it. It didn’t matter much to him though. The color of Grillby’s fire was lilted into dull tones of red and orange - weaker than normal, but a thousand times better than when Gaster had last seen him. The patches where his fire had gone out were all mostly gone. The only one that remained was a patch on his shoulder which stayed stubbornly cooled. It may scar like that… honestly Gaster didn’t know.

For now, he left the elemental sleeping, choosing instead to hug himself wretchedly and shuffle over to the whiteboard where the nurses had left notes. There was a lot of brutal honesty written there. Gaster had been right when he’d thought the elemental had been dying. His health remaining when they’d checked him in was in the single digits.

Gaster let out a shaking sigh, a hand slipping up to cover his mouth. He’d been… _so close_ … to losing Grillby forever. Oh… gods… he needed to sit down. But Grillby’s room didn’t have a chair. Instead Gaster sunk to the ground at Grillby’s bedside, his back pressed up against the side of the bed, his head leaning back against the white covers. He closed his eyes and sighed, and tentatively reached a hand up to entwine his fingers with Grillby’s.

“Never again, firefly,” Gaster murmured.

He fell asleep there again, and stayed that way until a nurse roused him and chastised him softly about wandering around the hospital. Though she let him stay where he was when he asked. Apparently they’d gone to bring him supper when they realized he wasn’t in his room. So he sat by Grillby’s bedside and ate the bitter hospital food, and relished in the refreshing feeling of healing it gave him. One of the nurses offered him a newspaper to entertain himself with, and he read it with a sigh.

“So, the King got her soul,” Gaster said quietly - his voice sounded weird and alien in the sterile room, “Final dust count was three in Snowdin, five in Waterfall, and a spectacular twelve in Hotlands – not counting all the guards we lost.”

Gaster paused and glanced up at Grillby, “It was almost fourteen you know.”

Gaster sighed and turned the page, managing a sad sort of smile, “Though it looks like we weren’t the only ones that were spared… that’s good.”

The following page had several reports of the girl sparing people. They were all civilians, interviewed while still in the hospital. She’d harmed them within an inch of their life, but in the end she’d spared five, and their stories were included there. There was also a lengthy article about _The Royal Scientist!!_ and his grand heroics in attempting to save a fire monster friend, native of Snowdin. There was a fuzzy camera snapshot beside the article of Gaster standing, hands outstretched, talking to this human.

A wave of nausea hit him when he saw it; something spurred by nervousness and amplified by the reek of dust still on his coat. It wasn’t a _heroic_ picture. It was a picture of a monster begging for his life, begging for the life of his friend. And what made Gaster angrier was how flippantly they mentioned Grillby. How quickly they dismissed his presence. Gaster promptly ripped the paper in half.

“... I was reading that.”

The skeleton jerked at the sound of the voice he wasn’t expecting, and then doubled over slightly when the crack in his ribs throbbed to life.

Gaster chuckled painfully, a hand clutched to his chest as he waited for the feeling to subside, “Well good morning sunshine.”

He glanced back at Grillby, who had propped himself up on his elbows, “It’s about time you woke up.”

Grillby glanced at the clock at the other side of the room, flickering a tired frown, “It’s not morning.”

“But you’re still my sunshine,” Gaster shrugged, smiling pleasantly, feeling happier than he’d expected he would, “So it works.”

“I thought I was your firefly?” Grillby asked with a short laugh of smoke, sinking back into his bed. He paused for a moment and then frowned, “Who died?”

“Not us,” Gaster pointed out, leaning his head back as well, “Not for lack of trying though.”

“Darn,” Grillby said, his voice tiredly sarcastic, “Looks like we’ll have to try harder next time.”

A thoughtful pause passed between them, the hum of machinery eating up the quiet. Gaster could almost let it lull him back to sleep again. Grillby spoke before he could.

“So… you killed her? Or… not?”

Gaster shook his head, “No.”

“But… she’s gone, right?”

“Yes,” Gaster sighed, “She left us behind and made it to Asgore. He’s collected her soul.”

“She… spared us?” Something wormed it’s way through Grillby’s tone… he sounded… distraught. And confused. Gaster looked up at him from where he sat.

“Why did she spare us?”

“I don’t know,” Gaster answered honestly, “I thought she was… she almost did.”

He looked down at his hands, now nervously twisting the torn newspaper, “I was… completely at her mercy.”

A fearful ache completely unrelated to the crack in his ribs flooded through his chest, “I… I was… ready… for her to.”

Gaster let out a short breath, “And she just… looked at me and… walked away.”

Grillby was sitting up again, watching Gaster attentively and leaning in towards him. His flame twisted through concerned colors and he frowned, “Gaster? You okay?”

“I think so?” the skeleton replied, suddenly feeling like… oh gods… he felt like he might cry, “I… _should_ be okay. We’re okay. We didn’t die. I just… I was… scared. And I was okay with… I was going to let her… I-I mean… I was hurt, I couldn’t fight any more if I wanted to Grillby. And you were dying and I was d… I was… I…”

Suddenly Gaster felt like every emotion he should have been feeling in those last few moments was crashing over him, belatedly, like it had taken _this long_ for the horror to set in. He’d been willing to die. He’d lain there and… waited. He’d stopped fighting. How could he? Why hadn’t he done everything he could to stop her? He should have begged or staggered to his feet and stood over his friend and stood his ground. He should have… He’d almost -!

“Gaster.”

The skeleton snapped his head up to look at Grillby. The elemental had scooted over in his bed, and now sat patting the side of it, motioning for Gaster to join him. It took him a few seconds of staring, but Gaster eventually managed to drag himself to his feet and crawl in beside him. He wrapped his arms around Grillby’s chest and clung to the warmth there, letting it ground him. The elemental replied by wrapping his arm around Gaster’s shoulders, using his free hand to trace patterns down the bones of his arm.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Gaster whispered, and Grillby nodded, “Please… _please_ I can’t go through that again.”

“I promise,” Grillby said quietly.

“No matter what human falls down-!”

“No matter what human falls down,” Grillby said resolutely, “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to post this in the 5 minutes I have before I clock out so forgive me if this is incoherent.
> 
> So the first time I had this story up I got a comment, and I can't remember if it was on AO3 or Fanfiction.net, but it bothered me and I felt it was an open invitation for me to explain things after the story was done so! Rambling shall now ensue.
> 
> The comment was, basically, "Funny how it's INTEGRITY that's going on the MASSIVE KILLING SPREE."
> 
> Indeed, it does seem ironic doesn't it? But let me explain, before you throw me under the bus for demonizing a random nonexistent child character in the game.
> 
> So first off - the game canonically states that Integrity was violent. I'm pulling this off the top of my head so forgive me if I misquote a bit, but you pick up first the ballet shoes, correct? In which you are given text that says roundabouts "These make you feel dangerous", which is I believe, the most ominous statement attached to one of the items you can find. Secondly, it is specified the Tutu is "A Dusty Tutu". Correct me if I'm wrong, but that I remember, dust specifically is only mentioned when pertaining to items in the game twice, correct? Once on the dusty tutu, and once on the toys in Asgore's home. Asriel's toys. And since we are given the information previously that monsters scatter the dust of their fallen on items they loved, we can actually make a reasonable assumption that that is Asriel's dust. So, given the only other time dust is mentioned on an object, it meant monster dust and not just old age dust, I think it's pretty easy to assume the dust on the tutu is the same.
> 
> Now, if you needed my personal reasoning, here it is:
> 
> Integrity is one of the most ambiguous concepts humans have made. Vague enough that it can mean good or bad - in my opinion anyway. You're welcome to share your thoughts as well, this is mostly my ramblings below.
> 
> To get us started, the definition of Integrity is: the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness. 
> 
> Now, normally when I think of morals, I think of, you know, GOOD morals. Like the idea that killing is wrong. The idea that stealing is wrong, etc. Basic good/bad, black/white morality. But in reality, morality has nothing to do with GOODNESS. It only has to do with your definition of what good or bad is. So therefore Integrity isn't holding true to GOODNESS. Integrity is holding true to YOUR DEFINITION of goodness. 
> 
> Integrity allows soldiers to fight in war, even though common morals say killing is 'bad'.  
> Integrity allows you to steal food for your starving family, even though stealing is 'bad'.
> 
> Integrity appears whenever you follow your idea of goodness. And if you can justify what you are doing as right, to yourself. If you can make allowances in your conscious to say one thing or another is morally sound, and you hold to that belief, you have integrity.
> 
> So, what if your sense of morality allows you to protect someone, to fight for someone, regardless of the cost to the people around you? What if you hold true to that belief regardless of the opposition? What if you hold true to that belief even if it means hurting someone, or killing someone?
> 
> In this sense integrity is also reckless. When coupled with enough misguided thought you can power through any obstacle as long as in your current moral perception that constitutes good - even if that moral perception is skewed. Integrity can be given to someone who has killed dozens, because he did it in defense of an ideal, or in defense of a country. Integrity can be given to someone who has ruined lives, intentionally or not, because it had been justified to a social norm or philosophical stasis.
> 
> Integrity is a two-edged sword. It fights for both good and bad. We simply call it different things based on our personal perceptions of morality.
> 
> It is, to me, a bit like deciding who the villain is depending on the side he stands on relative to yourself. You can empathize with a villain. You can empathize with a hero. But you decide which is which based on yourself, and your perception. In the same way you decide whether someone has integrity, or whether someone is inherently evil, based on what they are doing to you and the things immediately around you.
> 
> Gaster had integrity  
> Grillby had integrity  
> The girl had integrity
> 
> I chose the hero for you.


End file.
